


Irresistible Muse

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: #blessed credence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bad Dirty Talk, Blow Jobs, Come Marking, M/M, Nude Modeling, Oops, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Unprofessional Behavior, Workaholic Original Percival Graves, credence shushing graves during sex, long haired credence, model credence, over sensitive credence, photographer graves, size queen Graves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 21:33:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9846071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Credence finds a photographer he really wants to work with, and might even have a little crush on him, just from his candid photo and biography.Unfortunately he missed one important detail.Graves does artful nude photo shoots.





	

**Author's Note:**

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> literally no point to this fic beyond some naked long haired Credence accidentally seducing photographer Graves who doesn't usually get boners for his clients.

* * *

 

 

“Come on in.”

Graves called out from where he was, still in the middle of setting up for the shoot, lights and shades angling around the bed in the center of the room, decorated with some pillows and throws, and a black silk robe for the model to wear before actually starting.

He turned to see his latest client, the up and coming model plucked out of small town New Jersey, a supposedly angel voiced young man with hair that should have made girls envious instead of swooning.

Graves had questioned why such a young star would want to work with him, and especially one who seemed to prefer more tame things, and who worked hard to be kept out of the public eye and even the tabloids fairly well.

His assistant had no explanation other than _, ‘He requested you by name.’_

So it seemed the model had a new clothing line and upcoming album to promote, hence the photos.

Graves was prepared for about anything, but the model and his entourage, consisting of a slim dark haired girl and a red haired frazzled looking publicist was a little overwhelming.

“Whoa, whoa now. It’s Credence right? Sorry your people can’t be in here while we work. Unless you’re underage and they can act as guardian?”

The red head was frowning and the model himself, Credence, was stepping forward, not quite taking the hand offered to shake,

“I’m twenty two. I think I can handle myself… why would I need a guardian for a photo shoot?”

He turned to quirk a brow at the girl, and Graves saw her cheeks flushing.

“Credence… don’t you remember? This is  _Graves_ , he works with nudes… Newt, I thought you told him this?”

The model was going pink very rapidly, pale skin almost changing like he’d been sunburned and his jaw dropped, even as Graves pulled his hand back,

“Wait… what?”

*

“It’s fine, it’s fine. You can keep the robe on as long as you like. We’ll get some good shots of you like that to start things off. Boudoir style.” The man was saying, shuffling around the room, fussing with his equipment, not quite meeting his eyes.

Credence nodded, and took the offered scrap of black silk, before moving towards the changing screen in the corner of the room. His heartbeat was pounding so hard, loud and fast in his ears, it was a wonder the photographer, Mister Graves, couldn’t hear it too.

Credence couldn’t understand it. He had been given a list of esteemed photographers to choose from, to help promote the new album, and the upcoming announcement of his partnership with Calvin Klein, but somehow, he’d completely missed the part about Graves shooting only artful nudes. Reading through the man’s biography, about all the wonderful and unique places he’d shot things, Credence had greatly appreciated the work he’d done, and hardly made the connection that they were  _all_  naked people, always.

As he slipped out of his jeans and shirt and pulled on the robe, he felt goose bumps erupt over his skin at the smooth kiss of silk. He gulped, and prayed to anyone who might be listening to not let him embarrass himself in front of such an important person.

It was stupid really, the fact he could get an erection from the merest caress of  _anything_  over his skin, the wrong type of look, or even the right turn of phrase. 

He walked back out towards the ring of lights and various shades, and only then did he notice what he’d be perched on for the photos was a bed. Not just any bed, a slightly tousled mattress on the floor that looked perfectly designed to make the shoot come off as anything but innocent.

He was an adult. He kept repeating it as a mantra, even thought Mister Graves had seemed to think at first he wasn’t, and yet hadn’t even questioned the decision to have an appointment with him.

“Go on then, pick a spot on the bed. Do you want to sit down or lay down at first?”

At first?

Credence swallowed again, and then stepped a bit closer to the bed, feeling the softness of the sheets under his hand, and he chanced a look up at the man, who was perched by his camera.

“Is there a specific pose you want me to do?”

The man smirked,

“Eventually, of course. Right now we just need to get you comfortable with the situation. Relaxed enough to let me do my job. Okay?”

Credence nodded, and took a tentative seat at the edge of the bed, but somehow miscalculated, and ended up sprawling backwards, catching himself on his elbows, but neglecting the tie to his robe, and Mister Graves likely ended up with an eyeful. What else could explain his sharp intake of breath?

Credence was that sure he had turned bright red, and he was stuttering as he straightened up, his hands scrambling to pull the halves of silk back together.

“Um, so, I’ll just…”

Mister Graves was mumbling to himself, turning away and retreating behind the camera and tripod, fumbling with something, maybe a flash attachment.

Credence finally stopped moving, and dared to look over at the camera, hoping he didn’t look nearly as ridiculous as he felt, clinging to his knees and turning to look over his shoulder, back facing the lens.

“Perfect. Hold that.”

The camera clicked, many more times than seemed necessary and Credence tried to keep from blinking.

“Don’t be a statue, breathe.”

Mister Graves was saying, and Credence did, feeling as his neck began to cramp from the angle, so he moved, shifting down to rest his head on his arm, stomach flat on the mattress, as if looking up at a lover standing over him.

The thought sent a spear of heat down his spine, and he blinked, realizing the clicking had stopped, and the man was approaching him.

He held as still as possible when Mister Graves knelt before him, hand outstretched, fingers grazing over his face, pushing back a stray lock of hair.

“There. That’s better.”

He got back up and Credence tried to ignore how close he’d been, before the camera was between them once more, and the clicking resumed.

After a few moments, he thought maybe he could sit up and shift out of the robe, just a little, baring his back and chest. Exposing his shoulders was easy, and as long as he could keep his waist covered, he would be okay.

Mister Graves paused, of course, watching as he changed positions, and Credence shrugged out of the robe just enough so that he could then lean back against the scattered pillows, crossing his legs and bracing his arms at his sides.

“Hmm, no. You don’t look comfortable.”

The man said, with a click of his tongue, and he was there again, now with a strong hand grasping one of Credence’s wrists, guiding it to his bare chest, right over his ribs.

Mister Graves surely could feel his heart beating beneath his skin, as he placed Credence’s other hand there, locking his own fingers together.

“There, now you could be meditating or praying. Close your eyes, ignore the camera for this pose, okay?”

Credence nodded and the man retreated once more, eyes lingering on his bare legs, and up higher, unless he was imagining it.

But the click-click-click of the camera started back up, and he did as he’d been instructed, closed his eyes and did his best not to move too much.

He desperately wanted to put his hands at his waist, attempt to fold the robe over, to hide his nearly painful arousal, but eventually he wouldn’t even have that to cover himself.

He could only hope the man wouldn’t laugh or kick him out, or would let him remain on his stomach for the completely nude shots.

*

Graves was not ever flustered. Never. He’d done thousands of shoots, seen dozens of pairs of breasts and almost as many dicks. The model before him was nothing special, no one different.

But god, he was _breath taking._

Graves didn’t know if it was his innocence or shyness or just the fact that every shot came out looking planned, even if he was half assing it just to keep himself from taking a few steps over and fucking yanking away that robe to see exactly what was between the model’s legs.

If it matched the rest of him, lanky and long limbed, it would be a marvel, and Graves would have to pretend he wasn’t off the deep end, attracted to a client and being less than his usual 100% professional self.

The way that he had acted just a moment before, letting Graves direct his hands, for a fleeting moment, he imagined shifting him closer, pulling those hands around his neck, or sliding in between slender thighs, and…

No.

Focus.

He’d only been shooting the ethereal being for half an hour, still a good two hours to go, and it was time goddamnit, time to _quit_ babying him.

He stepped away from the camera and stalked over to the bed, looking down to see Credence’s eyes still closed, and long lashes fanning over his cheeks above the sharp edges.

He could do it. Just reach out and snag the edge of the robe, and gently slide it off.

“Hey… you awake?”

He was teasing mainly, his fingers already twitching towards the delicate ankle, the closest body part belonging to the model he could touch, and then those dark liquid eyes opened, and pink kissed the rounds of his cheeks.

“Yes Mister Graves, of course. Sorry, I tend to get lost in thought… I so rarely have the chance to be alone you see.”

Graves nodded, hand inching ever closer to the silk,

“I understand. I’m glad I could help you with that. I wonder, if you’d help me with something?”

Credence sat up slightly, leaning on his elbows, face earnest and plush lips parting,

“Anything.”

“Mind if we get rid of this?”

Graves tightened his hand in the scrap of robe he had, and started to pull.

He was asking out of necessity, but he wasn’t really going to force the model if he  _really_  didn’t want to.

The carved cheeks grew darker, and there was an almost imperceptible shake of his head, but no opposition met Graves’ arm, and he stepped back, removing the robe completely, tie and all.

He was a professional dammit.

He was.

So why was he unable to look away from the gorgeous cock pressed between two creamy thighs?

“I’m sorry… I just…”

Credence buried his face in his hands and started to curl up into himself, knees drawing towards his chest, and Graves felt something melting inside of him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. This is all new to you. I mean, you do realize some models wear lingerie for their work, constantly… so it’s like, anything after this should be easy, right?”

Credence looked up at him, eyes wet with tears, and Graves had a sudden urge to kiss him, and wipe those tears away. He looked too damn pretty when he cried.

“Yeah? I don’t think I’ll ever have to wear that sort of thing, and Calvin Klein boxers are pretty modest.”

“See? This is the worst of it.”

Not that he liked being thought of that way, but if he was a hurdle to be overcome, or, rather the photo shoot was, so be it.

Credence was nodding, and unspooling his limbs just slightly, straightening out one leg, and tilting his head to the side, exposing a perfect stretch of neck.

Graves bit his lip to avoid leaning down and biting that instead, and moved away, retreating to hide behind the camera, as it was all he could do. 

Professional. 

Always.

*

Credence fought to touch the man, he did. Considering how close he’d gotten, inadvertently flirting with his eyes, and allowing the man to look at him totally naked, it was a dangerous thing, he knew.

Mister Graves murmured occasional instructions for poses, and he followed them carefully, bending an arm here, tucking a leg there, never anything that made him too uncomfortable, or ended up making his nudity too obvious.

It wasn’t inherently arousing, but he still found himself getting hard when he was directed to lie on his stomach, and the friction of the sheets brushed against his bare skin.

He bit back a moan as he lowered his body down completely, rubbing his hips none too subtly while he rested his cheek against his arm, a similar pose to earlier, but now with his entire backside exposed.

“All right there?”

Mister Graves was asking, and he froze,

“Yes?”

“That sounds like a question. Are you cold? Do you want a blanket over you or the robe again?”

Credence shook his head swiftly, sending dark waves tickling over the back of his neck and shoulders, involuntarily making him shudder.

“I think you are.”

“No I’m just…”

Hyper sensitive? Embarrassingly hard?

Not much to be done.

Credence sighed, and leaned back down, watching the man’s shoes as he shifted around and plucked out something from a nearby table.

“Here.”

It felt like warm air on his skin, and he turned back to see Mister Graves placing his own jacket over his bare back, keeping his ass still slightly revealed, making the entire look more teasing than erotic.

“How’s that?”

He could smell the man’s cologne clinging to the collar, and he inhaled deeply to get another lungful of air.

“Wonderful.”

Mister Graves was still lingering, as if hesitating, debating something, before there was a hand at his neck, fingers grasping his skin and threading through the waves at his nape,

“You’re so… god, just stunning.”

Credence barely had a moment to process the kind words, before the man was kneeling beside the bed, leaning in to press his mouth against his own, and a scrape of stubble was tickling over his chin.

“What…?”

Graves pulled back after a heart stopping moment, breathing hard,

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Credence wasn’t protesting, in fact, his cock was practically throbbing into the mattress, his hips aching to move, to gain more friction. He was going to make a mess of the prop bed if he wasn’t careful.

“Mister Graves, would you do it again? Please?”

The man’s eyes flitted to his, and then locked there, twin pools of brown with flecks of gold, and Credence dimly saw him lick his lips out of the corner of his eye.

“You want that?”

His voice was a low rasp, as if he was afraid of startling Credence, who merely nodded.

He sat up slightly, leaning on an elbow, and the man’s hand slid beneath his chin, fingers tight on his jaw line, guiding him up. He bit back a whimper as his cock was freed from being pushed into the sheets, bobbing against his stomach, an unmistakable emblem of his shame now.

“Oh, god, you’re hard.”

Credence gulped and tried to apologize, but Mister Graves was already upon him again, lips crashing down to his, teeth and tongue adding to the slip and slid of their mouths against each other.

He reached out desperately, craving more contact, and snagged a shoulder in each hand, fingers putting wrinkles into the man’s shirt, and he swore he felt the man moan.

Credence jumped slightly when a hand made contact with his cock, easily stroking over him, ripping a whine from his throat, and he broke the kiss to pant against the man’s neck, lips almost brushing his skin.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that? You’ve been driving me crazy all morning.”

Credence was blushing bright red he knew, but he didn’t bother denying the kind words, he’d heard them enough since being ‘discovered’ to know they were probably true, he just couldn’t quite believe them. But coming from Mister Graves, who was likely an expert on such a subject, he was tempted to.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Make it up to me. Lean back.”

He did so, following Mister Graves’ directions perfectly, and he was being pushed into the mattress soon enough, his aching cock trapped between his stomach and the man’s shirt, arousal almost blinding him from the sensations, before the man was kissing down his neck, teeth nipping here and there, until he’d reached his bare chest, and his tongue was trailing hotly on his skin, teasing over one of his nipples.

“Oh-h-h…”

He arched his back and thrust up into the steady weight that Mister Graves presented over him, and he could feel the man laughing.

“You’re so eager, sweet thing. Would you let me suck your gorgeous dick?”

Credence gasped, and then nodded.

Mister Graves tightened his hand, stroking a bit harder,

“Ah, no, tell me. What do you want me to do?”

Credence bit back a whimper,

“I want you to suckmycock.”

The words came out in a rush, as he was a bit nervous, nearly desperate to come, and Mister Graves kissed right below the dip of his stomach,

“I didn’t hear that.”

He took a deep breath, and tried to focus, to remember to do it right,

“Suck my cock and swallow my come down.”

“Oh my, you’re naughty aren’t you?”

Credence wanted to protest, but the man’s lips were already on him, tongue laving over the slickness of the head and pulling him deep into his mouth without a word.

His hips thrust up of their own accord, and the man didn’t even flinch, simply swallowing around him and making Credence let out an inhumane sound, fingers desperately grasping at the man’s hair, ruining the perfect style.

Credence almost couldn’t bear to look away as the man worked him over, oozing saliva down the length of his cock and his mouth making obscene noises, the man’s strong hands bracing on his thighs, holding them apart so he couldn’t press closer, could only thrust up anxiously and try to chase the orgasm building inside of him.

“Please… I’m close…”

Mister Graves hummed around him and he swore his vision whited out, as his tongue rubbed hard against the underside of the head, and one hand left a thigh to stroke roughly on his cock, bringing him off in seconds, as he felt his come spurting into the man’s mouth, he collapsed back onto the bed, trying to catch his breath.

“God, you’re so fucking hot. You should have gone into porn. You’d have made a perfect surprise top. Look like a twink, walk like one, and then off come the pants to reveal this beauty.”

Credence shivered slightly, sweat cooling on his skin, and he glanced up to find the man smiling down at him, undoing his pants, and he gulped.

“Do you want me to…?”

Return the favor?

“No baby. Just stay right there. I’m going to come on your chest. Then we’ll take some more photos.”

Credence blinked, and nodded slowly, heat still curling at the base of his spine, as his cock gave an interested twitch, though he’d need a few more moments to recover.

Mister Graves loomed over him, fist pumping over his cock, and Credence shifted up to meet him halfway, their mouths crashing into each other, swallowing a groan as he tasted himself on the man’s tongue, and felt his strong body shuddering against him.

“Are you…”

Credence broke the kiss to gasp, but the man growled, and nudged him back, still stroking himself, and giving him a wicked smile,

“Don’t move.”

Long wet ropes of white painted over his chest, almost dripping down to his stomach, and Credence fought the urge to reach up and drag a hand through some of it, desperate to taste the man.

“Don’t you make a pretty sight?”

The man hummed low in his throat, and leaned forward to place one final kiss on his sore lips, before retreating, tucking himself away, and returning behind the camera, leaving Credence sprawled on the bed, utterly exposed and thoroughly wrecked.

*

Graves was taking  _these_  pictures for his personal collection. The world wasn’t ready to see Credence Barebone naked and panting, streaked with a stranger’s spend, glistening under the hot lights.

Their time was almost up, unfortunately, but he wasn’t about to let the model get away without a subtle reminder of what he did, and could do, if given half a chance.

Credence remained on the bed for a few lingering moments, and Graves finally put the camera away, tucking the lens cap on, and moving to the nearby restroom to snag some paper towels, wetting them and returning to clean off the mess on the model’s chest.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

He sounded like one of those fucking robots at the fast food joint, but Credence was looking up at him with those dark eyes, almost begging silently for another kiss.

He wished they had time.

“You need to get dressed. Your people will be here any minute.”

The perfect cheeks flushed, and his eyes left Graves, ducking to the floor before he nodded.

“Okay.”

But oh, he had his card in hand, and slipped it into the back pocket of Credence’s jeans, seconds before the door to the studio flew open, revealing the tall girl and ginger man.

“Credence! Darling how was it?”

Graves moved out of the way, fumbling with his bags of lenses and messing around on his phone until the group had left, the ginger telling him that payment would be sent promptly, and they looked forward to the final edits of the photos.

Edits?

Graves snorted to himself, just barely missing the chirp of a text alert on his phone. An unsaved number.

His heart gave a traitorous skip and he thumbed it open to see four little words that threatened to make him hard again.

_‘I wanna taste you.’_

He was already typing a reply before he could think better of it, and actually start to get some real work done, namely, download the photos just for him to his phone, and start the unnecessary edits on the others.

‘Next time.’

Credence’s photos needed minimal touch ups, the only corrections were the light and adding a filter of choice that made his skin seem to glow, like the angel he was.

Going over the completely nude photos took a bit longer, and Graves took a moment to just stare at his favorite, one of the ones where Credence was resting on his front, all the slender curves of his calves, ass and hips leading into the sharp edges of his shoulder blades, and the dark waves of his hair spilling over one arm.

If he wasn’t careful, he knew he could end up becoming as besotted as half of the country was with the young man.

He sat back in his chair and sighed, bringing a hand to his suddenly aching temples. How had it gotten to that? Why had he let himself cross that line? It wasn’t just because he’d had such a pretty client, hell; he’d photographed lingerie models, like he’d said, and never so much as popped a boner while working.

It wasn’t just Credence’s looks, he’d chosen  _him_ , and didn’t even know what he’d been getting into.

He needed a drink, and soon, so he closed down his computer and tucked away his equipment before leaving the studio behind, and headed home.

His phone seemed to burn a hole into his pocket, and though he hoped for another text from the model, even after three fingers of whiskey, there was still nothing, so he went to bed, restless but exhausted, and slept dreamlessly.

*

_3 months later._

*

They had been texting more and more frequently now that Credence had landed back in the United States, but he still didn’t know when he would get the chance to take a break, a real break and actually go see the photographer. Mister Graves.

Credence was almost dying to see the man. He just wanted to have a drink with him, or coffee, or pay him for a whole shoots worth of time and just talk to him. Above all that, a more carnal urge to just take him home, or ask for his address. All these desires threatened to overpower reason and logic.

He was typing a plea the second he got back home, and had set his bag down, before even thinking about unpacking or jumping in the shower to wash off the smell of airplane food and airport coffee.

His phone buzzed a half second later, it felt like, and he couldn’t help smiling.

_‘Welcome back to NY.’_

Eventually he found the guts to just type the damn question, and like a coward, he put his phone down and went to go shower, almost afraid of what he’d find when he emerged.

‘Your place or mine?’

He about ran back into the bathroom to jerk off into the shower and prevent himself from being ridiculously anxious the second he saw the man, but only just stopped himself.

Instead, he had a drink, clad just in his towel, and typed out another question.

‘I’m at my studio.’

It was on the upper East Side, not really that far from his place. Credence thought if he’d not had some tequila he’d be crawling out of his skin.

He told the man to come over whenever he wanted.

‘Be there in twenty.’

Okay so he wasn’t the only one who’d missed him, apparently.

Credence ran a hand through his damp hair, and tried to flip through his closet, wondering exactly what he should wear, what said casual, I don’t want to jump your bones, but secretly do?

He finally decided on a button up and gym slacks. Comfort and style all in one, he supposed.

Another shot’s worth of tequila and he was feeling a bit more at ease, but he still jolted when the doorbell rang.

His hand tightened on his phone and he padded over to glance through the peephole, it was him.

Dark hair, now with some silver streaks, same heavy brows, with a smile that said ‘ _fuck me_ or you’, and damn, Credence was in trouble.

He pulled open the door and tried to grin casually, but the man’s eyes raked over his body, and the quirk of his brow wasn’t helping,

“Hey there. Long time no see.”

“Please, come in.”

“Thanks. Nice place you’ve got.”

“Yeah well, Tina picked it out, it doesn’t get lived in much if I’m honest.”

“What are you drinking?”

Credence blinked, and realized he was holding his empty glass. He slammed the door shut and moved towards the kitchen, which was mainly a liquor cabinet, and a refrigerator full of beer and wine.

“I was having tequila, but you’re welcome to whatever you want.”

He could already feel the alcohol buzzing through his system, warming him from the inside out, and he caught Mister Graves staring at him, leaning against the counter, fingers drawing mindless shapes on the marble. Never had Credence wanted to be an inanimate object so badly in his life.

“Is that right? Whatever?”

“Yep. There’s beer, wine, coolers, I have rum, whiskey, mixers, chasers…”

He trailed off, turning and gulping, as he found the man nearly beside him,

“Thank you… but I’m not thirsty for those sorts of things.”

A hand was trailing up his side, and Credence found his heartbeat thundering in his ears, as he prayed that the man would kiss him, or maybe he would, before he lost his nerve.

“What do you want?”

Mister Graves tilted his head, leaning in the final few inches, and Credence could feel the warmth of his breath on his lips,

“You.”

*

Graves had been telling himself all day to chill, to remain like any other friend going to see the amazing person who was Credence Barebone, but unfortunately, he’d lost it the second the front door opened and revealed his perfect self. Still glowing from a shower and smelling like angels, he’d just barely resisted pinning him to the door and fucking him against the wall.

Then he’d kept fighting the urge to just… touch him, and he’d listened to Credence go over the veritable bar he was housing in his kitchen, but he wasn’t interested in any of it.

Instead, he let himself just graze, just tease over the bare arm that he could reach, and still he wanted to rip the model’s shirt off, and drop to his knees and worship the dazzling cock he knew was hidden in those black sweats.

When he was finally asked what he wanted, he didn’t deny himself any longer, he told the truth.

Credence looked at him with his pupils blown, and he felt his mouth go dry, but he wasn’t kept waiting, wasn’t made to suffer. Graves merely held still, and Credence came to him, lips hungry and kiss deep, mouth parting and hands grasping.

“God I missed you.”

He found himself saying, and Credence actually fucking whimpered against him, bucking his hips as he dragged his mouth down that sharp jaw line and kissed against his unmarked neck. Not for long it wouldn’t be.

He slotted a thigh between Credence’s legs, and felt him grind down almost immediately,

“I wanted to think about you in the shower, but then I decided it would be a bad idea.”

Breathy and low, Credence’s voice was like liquid fire, stirring up Graves’ arousal to full peak, and he almost growled into the crook of his shoulder and neck.

“God… unless you want me bending you over this counter, take me to your room.”

“Tempting… but I’m not sure how comfortable that would be.”

The little giggle Credence gave off made Graves’ pulse jump, and he laced their fingers together before doing as asked, and tugging him along a short hallway to a bedroom as nicely decorated as the rest of the place.

But he barely noticed, considering his arms were full of writhing and willing perfection.

Somehow Credence managed to land on top of him, hands scrabbling to lift up his shirt and toss it aside, fingers teasing over his bare skin, his body a welcome weight over his hips.

“Sorry, I’m a little drunk, normally I’m not so…”

He trailed off, palms splayed over Graves’ chest, and he chuckled.

“Eager? I beg to differ. You were stone cold sober at the shoot, were you not?”

Credence blushed, and then shrugged,

“Yeah… but still…”

“I don’t mind, trust me.”

He shifted his hands to grasp over Credence’s hips, and squeezed none too gently. He wanted those pants off yesterday.

Credence ground down over his hardening cock, and Graves bit back a moan.

“I can tell.”

“You minx. Are you going to come down here and kiss me or am I going to have to flip you over?”

Credence’s eyes widened, and he started to lean in, but Graves did it anyway, because he wanted the leverage, and the chance to start undressing him.

He thumbed open the buttons to the collared shirt faster than he thought possible, but then again, he wasn’t drunk, Credence was, and the second he got them all undone, the model was shrugging out of it, baring miles of pale skin to Graves’ eyes, that much more delicious territory to be marked.

Graves was almost giddy, so he only kissed those plush lips a moment before moving down to lick and suck over Credence’s upper body, down along the smooth skin of his stomach, and his fingers curled into the waistband of his sweats.

“Can I?”

He felt a hand in his hair, tangling slightly, and nudging pointedly, pushing him down and closer, so he smirked, and nipped at the sensitive skin by Credence’s hipbone, making him jump and gasp, and fingers tighten on his scalp.

“Mmm, there it is. How many times did you touch yourself thinking of me while you were traveling?”

Credence sounded winded,

“Too many to count.”

“Is that right?”

Graves put his mouth on it, leaning in close and dragging his tongue in a slow stripe up the length of it, relishing the gasp that escaped Credence’s lips, followed by what sounded like a strangled plea.

“Yes sweet thing, what is it?”

Credence was fisting Graves’ hair under his fingers, and he moaned against the bare skin of his hip,

“Please, don’t make me come like that, let me fuck you… I’ve thought about it for so long…”

Graves quirked a brow at him, and barely teased his mouth over the head of Credence’s cock,

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Credence bit his lip and nodded, and Graves felt warmth curl at the base of his spine.

“All right, you got it.”

*

Credence got the man out of his own clothing fairly quickly, and was pinning him back onto the bed with a fierce kiss, feeling as hands glided over his bare back and framed his waist.

“Mmm, you  _did_  miss me.”

Credence felt his cheeks heating as the man ground up against him, making their cocks brush together, and he shivered as the hands moved down to squeeze his ass and fingers strayed near his hole.

“Yes, yes, I did. I almost sexted you one night. But I managed to resist.”

“I wish you hadn’t.”

Another heated kiss and the man shifted over him, leaning up to reach over and fumble around in the bedside cabinet, almost like he knew that was where Credence kept his supplies.

Mister Graves sounded breathless when he asked,

“Have you done this before?”

“Are you asking if I usually bottom?”

Credence smirked down at him, and the man chuckled,

“Okay, you forget what I said at the shoot, remember… I’m just going off the impression you gave. Innocent flower and all. I don’t want to be your first… unless you want me to be?”

Credence gulped,

“I’m not a virgin if that’s what you mean…”

The man looked relieved.

“Good, good. I mean, I don’t think I could handle that much responsibility.”

“It’s mainly a social construct. It doesn’t even matter. Virgins can be highly knowledgeable even if they aren’t experienced.”

Mister Graves nipped at the side of his neck, making him arch up into him,

“Aren’t you clever? You’re absolutely right. I bet you know more than I. So why don’t you start fingering me, get me ready for that big beautiful cock of yours?”

Credence jumped a bit as Mister Graves flipped him over, and snagged one of his wrists with a hand, dragging the container of lube over his fingers, slicking them up before tugging them down below his own hardened cock.

“Come on, touch me.”

He watched as the man’s eyes widened with first breach of one fingertip, and more, as his jaw went slack and then his eyes fluttered shut, a breath hissing out between his teeth.

Oh, Mister Graves was stunning like that, being worked apart til he could only moan, and no longer tease at his attempting of dirty talk.

Credence was desperate before he knew what was happening, and his cock was leaking steadily against his chest, as Mister Graves fucked himself harder against his fingers.

“Need that, in me, right now.”

The man grunted out, and Credence whimpered as the man’s hand stroked roughly over his cock, thumb smearing the slick pre come on the head.

“Okay, yeah.”

Another dab of lube, now stroked over his cock, and Credence moved to press inside the man, relishing the gasp of surprise and arousal as much as the hot vise like feel that enveloped his cock.

“God… this is incredible.”

“You’re too cute. You really _have_ never topped before, have you?”

Mister Graves was grasping the back of his neck, dragging Credence down for a kiss, which he smiled against.

“So?”

“So your self control is amazing. I’d have blown my load already.”

Credence was about to make a smart remark, when the man shifted his hips, pulling back and forcing down further on his cock, and all coherent thoughts vanished, a strangled whimper was all that escaped his lips.

“Good boy… fucking me with your-”

“Shh-hh, you talk too much…”

Credence broke off, managing a humming sort of noise and the man let out a breathy sort of laugh, as he tried to build up a steady rhythm, fighting the urge to just pull out and come all over the man’s chest.

He couldn’t even muster the focus to touch the man’s cock but he wanted to, he wished he could help, until he felt Mister Graves tighten around him, and he looked to find the man stroking himself, pre come dripping onto his stomach.

There was a hand on his hip, moved from his back down his side, fingers digging into his skin, a small bit of pain distracting him, and Credence bit his lip, feeling his orgasm threatening to drown him.

“Come on, come for me.”

Mister Graves let go of his hip just to smack the nearest ass cheek he could reach, and Credence cried out, throwing his head back and groaning out his release.

He almost collapsed forward, and he felt both of the man’s arms wrap around him, holding him close, as a surprisingly tender kiss was pressed to his neck, before lips brushed over his ear,

“Perfect.”

*

 

 

 


End file.
